by Nash, Jean
Susanna’s eyes widened. She had a fairly good idea who had sent the damning evidence, but she was too shocked, too horrified, to answer the question.
Twenty
Securing Jay’s release was easier than Susanna had thought it would be. Once the police had verified with Tiffany & Company that the cigarette case had been purchased in November, they promptly released Jay. Before Susanna knew it, she was back in her suite at the Fenway, holding tightly to her husband’s hand and thinking incessantly, despairingly, about her treacherous brother.
How could he have done such a thing? Had he no integrity, no sense of honor? This wasn’t a childish indiscretion, or even an adult case of larceny. What Dallas had done to Jay was tantamount to murder.
Murder.
Had Dallas murdered Teddy, then? Had he been in on the embezzlement scheme, as Susanna had once accused him? No, no, no. Planting false evidence was one thing. Taking a man’s life, actually putting one’s hands about another’s throat and choking the breath from his body was another matter entirely.
“What are you thinking about?” Jay’s voice startled her. “You’ve been staring out that window for the past quarter hour.”
They were seated together on the window seat. Susanna’s hand, gripped tightly in Jay’s, felt numb and achy, but she did not withdraw it. She’d almost lost him. She had to hold him, to feel his presence, to know without doubt that nothing would ever separate them again.
She pressed his hand to her cheek. “I wasn’t thinking of anything. I’m just so enormously relieved that this nightmare is over and that we’re together again.”
Jay watched her with eyes that were still weary from his ordeal, though nonetheless perceptive. “There’s nothing else on your mind? If there is, I wish you’d tell me. I’ve done a lot of thinking this past week.”
“About what, Jay?”
“Mostly about you, about us, our relationship. And about the quarrel we had when I last saw you. It’s been—”
“Jay, don’t think of that anymore. I was wrong. I knew how horribly wrong I was when I thought I would lose you.”
“Those were my thoughts, too,” he said quietly, “except I was the one who was wrong. How glibly I talked of leaving you, of ending our marriage. As soon as I left Atlantic City, I realized that you mean more to me than anything in the world, that I’d rather lose everything I own a hundred times over than ever lose you.”
“Oh, Jay!” With a sob, she wound her arms around his neck. The tears that had been so perilously close to the surface for days spilled unchecked now that the danger of losing him was past. “That’s the way I’ve always felt. And I was so horrid to you that night. I nagged you and doubted you. I give you my promise I’ll never do either again.”
“Susanna, don’t.” He took her face in his hands and kissed away her tears. “Don’t blame yourself for my insensitivity. I haven’t been any kind of a husband to you, but that’s going to change now. Before I came to Boston, I spent some time in New York. I found a townhouse for us on Fifth Avenue. I know you’ll like it. And when we return to Atlantic City, we’ll look for a lot, perhaps on Absecon Inlet, and then we’ll talk to an architect, who’ll design for us the finest, largest, most beautiful house in all Atlantic County.”
More tears blurred Susanna’s eyes. Oh, how good he was! And Dallas, her dishonorable brother, was responsible for nearly destroying his life.
She moved back in his embrace and put her hands on his arms. “Jay, there’s something I must tell you. I know who sent the cigarette case to the police.”
“You know?” His tone was odd, astonished.
“Yes. It was Dallas.”
“Dallas?” He laughed softly. “No it wasn’t, Susanna. Good Lord, is that what’s bothering you? How long have you been torturing yourself with that notion?”
“Jay, he was the one who sent it, I’m sure of it. The package had an Atlantic City postmark. No one else there had a motive for wanting to hurt you.”
“What motive does Dallas have?” he asked sensibly. “Why would he want to kill the goose that lays the golden egg?”
“Because he’s never liked you, Jay. He never wanted us to marry. And every time he took money from you, he resented it. Just before I came to Boston, we had another quarrel. He’s been borrowing money from me again. When I told him I couldn’t ask you for the money because...because I thought you were planning to divorce me, he said maybe it would be better if you did. Maybe it would be better if you were permanently out of the way.”
“Goddamn him,” Jay muttered. “The last time I gave him money, I warned him if he ever distressed you again with his shenanigans, he’d regret it.”
“Oh, don’t you see?” she said. “It was his way of getting back at you. This is all my fault. I should have—”
“Susanna, stop it!” Jay took her hands firmly in his. “Don’t torture yourself further on that score. Believe me when I tell you that Dallas didn’t send the cigarette case. He hasn’t backbone enough to do such a thing.”
“But he did! He must have.”
“He didn’t,” Jay said strongly. “I know who sent the case to the police.”
“You know?” She stared at him, baffled. “Who was it?”
“Ford Weston.”
“Ford?” she echoed incredulously. “Jay, you’re wrong. Ford couldn’t have—”
“Ford could have and did, Susanna. I’ve known for some time now that he probably masterminded the embezzlement scheme. Alan double-dealt Ford and disappeared with the money, but Ford found him out and did away with him. Ford then must have discovered that Teddy had the money, and again he had to kill. Since I appeared to have a motive for murdering both men, Ford settled his score with me by planting the false evidence.”
“But why?” It was not to be believed. Not Ford, who had been so loving to both Susanna and her mother. “What possible reason could he have for wanting to destroy you?”
“It’s because of his brother,” Jay said. “Ford’s paying me back for something I did to Bobby.”
“Jay, that can’t be. Ford told me all about Bobby and you. He said he bore you no ill will.”
“What else could he have said, Susanna? Did you expect him to tell you that he had nursed this grudge for years, that he waited and planned to get back at me?”
“It can’t be,” she said again, but it was herself she was trying to convince. And then, an appalling thought struck her. “Jay, my mother had nothing to do with this, did she?”
“I don’t know, Susanna.”
“No,” she said faintly and covered her face with her hands. “I couldn’t bear it if she did.”
Jay’s arms went around her. She felt his lips brush her brow, then her cheek, then her quivering lips. “Forget about them.” His voice was rough with emotion. “Forget this entire revolting episode. Ford failed. We’re together now.”
He kissed her then, passionately, as if to blot out the dreadful images that kept passing through her mind. Half of her responded to him, half of her was numb. When he took her to bed and made swift urgent love to her, she wanted to sing for her rapture, she wanted to weep for the sorrow that lay heavy on her heart.
Forgetting about the man who bore Jay such malice was easier said than done. When they returned to Atlantic City, Susanna had some respite from her torturous thoughts. Courtney and Jay were of prime importance to her now. Let the rest of the world rot. Her husband and son were all that mattered.
Jay, it appeared, was none the worse for his ordeal. He worked daily at the Excelsior, as if his routine had never been interrupted by such a devastating event. He played with his son and proclaimed to anyone who would listen that no child on Earth was more intelligent than he. Susanna, watching them, would think fondly that a more doting father than Jay had never walked the earth. The time spent with her family was doubly precious to her now. She couldn’t stop thinking how different things might have been if Ford had succeeded with his plan.
She asked Jay once if he had t
old the Boston police of his suspicions about Ford. Jay said no, he had no hard evidence to present to them.
“Will he just get away with murdering Alan and Teddy, then?”
“On no account,” Jay said grimly. “I’m going to see to it that he doesn’t.”
“What will you do?” Susanna asked at once, for Jay’s deadly rages were cause for alarm.
He sensed her apprehension. His grim look vanished. He patted her hand. “Nothing unlawful. I give you my word.”
The sincerity of his tone did little to comfort Susanna. Jay was not a man who let wrongs go unavenged.
Dallas, thank heaven, was on his best behavior during this period. Susanna suspected that Jay had paid off his current debts, but she didn’t ask him about it, nor did he say he had done so. She went out of her way to be loving to Dallas. She sorely regretted having thought, even for a moment, that he had sent the cigarette case to the police. She should have had the good sense to realize that her brother, her flesh and blood, would never have done such a thing.
And yet, had her mother had a hand in Ford’s crimes? Augusta had written Susanna, expressing her horror at Jay’s arrest and her subsequent relief when he was released. “I wish we could get together,” Augusta had written, “and so does Ford. But at the moment it’s quite impossible.”
Susanna wondered why it was impossible. Was Augusta ashamed to face her? If she hadn’t actively participated in Ford’s schemes, had she just stood by, in tacit approval of his crimes?
Oh, she had to stop thinking of that, she had to! Let the authorities deal with it. Jay was free now, safe. They were truly a family, as Susanna had always wished. Jay had purchased a lot on Absecon Inlet. Construction on their new house would begin in the spring. All his hotels were flourishing. He seemed happier than he ever had. There was no longer any reason for Susanna to worry.
Courtney’s first Christmas was an especially festive time. In the large sitting room of the Grainger suite at the Excelsior, a fragrant pine tree was decorated with toy soldiers, silver snow flakes, and pudgy Santas with cheery painted faces. On the Adam-inspired mantel, holly wreaths were draped, along with a red velvet stocking Susanna had made, ready to be filled with goodies when Saint Nicholas arrived.
Jay, it appeared, had bought his son every toy sold in Atlantic City, not counting those he had ordered from New York. Susanna had made several extravagant purchases of her own, including a miniature railway, tiny ice skates, a tricycle with a bell, and a beautiful hobby horse decorated as ornately as a prancing carrousel horse. She’d been able to buy so much because she’d joined a saving plan at the beginning of the year. The “Christmas Club,” as it was called, had been established by Byron Sharp, a shipping clerk from Philadelphia, who spent all his summer vacations at the Sea Star.
Jay commended her on her foresight. “What a treasure you are, Susanna! If I ever go broke, I’ll have my wise, wealthy wife to come to my aid.”
“I forbid you to go broke,” she said tartly, “although you’ve probably come close to it this Christmas.”
He smiled and pinched her cheek, as Nina the nursemaid entered the room holding Courtney in her arms. They were followed by the cat, who was now full grown and patently aware of her graceful snow-white beauty.
“Precious!” Susanna took the baby from Nina and kissed him. “Happy Christmas, my dearest.”
“Give Papa a kiss, too,” Jay said.
Courtney happily complied, then held out his arms to Jay to be held. His blue-green eyes sparkled, his four teeth gleamed. Courtney was undeniably “Papa’s boy.” He loved his mother and never tired of her hugs and kisses, but he loved his father more than anyone in the world.
“I’m jealous,” Susanna pouted. “Whenever you’re in the room, I may as well be invisible.”
“I’m jealous, too!” Jay laughed and gestured at the cat, who was rubbing her sleek body against Susanna’s green velvet skirt. “Whenever you’re in the room, Snow never gives anyone else a tumble.”
“Snow,” Courtney echoed, pointing to the animal.
“And who would ever believe,” Jay said, “that the only word in my son’s vocabulary is the name of a silly cat?”
“His second word will be ‘Papa,’” Susanna assured him.
“No,” said someone from the doorway. “His second word will be ‘hotel.’”
“Dallas!” Susanna said. “I didn’t expect you so early. You’re just in time to see Courtney open his gifts.”
Dallas sauntered into the room, chucked Nina under the chin, causing her to blush furiously, then he looked at the profusion of toys and wrapped packages that stood chockablock in front of the tree. “Good Lord, Sunny! Is there anything left in the stores?”
“No,” she laughed. “We bought everything in sight.”
Courtney forgot the cat as another of his favorites approached him. “Da,” he said, holding out his chubby arms.
“I’ll be damned,” Dallas said, delighted. “He tried to say my name, Sunny. Either that or he thinks I’m his daddy.”
Jay scowled as Dallas took the child from his arms and planted a kiss on the tip of his button nose. “Say it again, Courtney. Say ‘Da’.”
But Courtney only snuggled closer in his uncle’s arms.
Dallas brought him to the hobby horse and placed him on it. Courtney grasped the bars and rocked back and forth.
“He’s a born equestrian,” Susanna said proudly. “He has the seat of a cavalryman.”
“Or a jockey,” Dallas said. “When he gets a bit older, I’ll teach him the finer points of the Sport of Kings.”
Jay dismissed Nina, who had been gazing adoringly at Dallas since he arrived. As soon as she left, Jay said to him, “Have you been trifling with that girl?”
Dallas, on his knees next to Courtney, turned to Jay with a look of amusement. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. Have you taken advantage of Nina?”
“Jay, don’t,” Susanna said, for on his face was a look she hadn’t seen in months. “Not on Christmas Day.”
“Susanna, please don’t interfere. Answer me, Dallas.”
Dallas straightened, slipped his hands into his pockets, and gave his inquisitor a scornful smile. “Don’t be such a hypocrite, Jay. You’ve had scores of romantic conquests in your time, haven’t you? In fact, my nephew is the result of one of them.”
“Dallas, how could you?” Susanna cried softly. Then, catching sight of Jay, who advanced on her brother with murder in his eyes: “Jay, no! Not in front of the baby.”
Jay stopped two feet from Dallas. “You insolent bastard,” he said, “apologize to your sister at once, or I’ll break you in two.”
For a few moments, there was no sound in the room save for the rhythmic creaking of the hobby horse. Susanna’s face drained of color. Dallas’s face, too, lost some of its rosy hue. He attempted to smile but managed only a nervous grimace. “Jesus, Jay, can’t you take a joke?”
“Apologize,” Jay grated.
“All right. Don’t get your dander up.” Dallas made a mocking bow to his sister. “I humbly beg your pardon, Sunny. No offense was meant, honestly. I was only teasing.”
Susanna’s racing heart slowed down. She knew Dallas hadn’t been teasing, but to preserve the peace, she kissed him and said in a shaky voice, “I know you were. And when Jay has had some time to think about it, he’ll know it, too. This past year has been a trial for all of us. Please,” she appealed to both men, “let’s not be at each other’s throats, today of all days.”
Jay looked at his wife. Her distress was obvious. He looked then at Dallas, whose nervousness had been replaced by a familiar air of arrogance. “You’re right,” he said. “Let’s just enjoy the holiday.”
Susanna gave him a grateful smile, but strangely, she was not comforted by his easy acquiescence.
It was the coldest, stormiest winter Atlantic City had ever known. During all of December and January, temperatures hovered in the single digits. A snowstorm
in February was reminiscent of the blizzard of ‘88. The wind was so fierce and erratic that six-foot-high snowdrifts stood directly across streets with bare patches of sidewalk. Telegraph poles split like matchsticks. Communication outside the island was impossible. Needless to say, the hotel business suffered. And yet, despite a virtually empty Excelsior, Jay chose to remain in Atlantic City for the entire tempestuous winter.
Susanna was delighted with his decision. Outdoor activities were limited because of the weather, but they were always together—what a priceless luxury! Out of misfortune, Susanna kept thinking, had sprung serenity. No more demons drove Jay. He seemed at last at peace with himself, and with his son and thoroughly happy wife.
One morning in March, after a rapturous night of love, he said to her, “I’m never going to leave this bed. For one thing, you’ve completely sapped my strength, and for another, nothing pleases me more than making love to you all night.”
Susanna moved closer in his embrace and nuzzled his bare chest. “What if I told you something that would please you even further?”
“That would be difficult to do,” he said, caressing her silky shoulder. “At this moment, I’m as content as a man could ever be.”
She looked up at him through her lashes and gave him a drowsy smile. “We’re going to have another child.”
“What?” He sat bolt upright. “Are you sure?”
“Fairly sure.” Her heart gave a thump at his look of pure joy. “Are you pleased?”
By way of answer, he drew her up against him and gave her a suffocating hug. “This is incredible! Just last night, I was thinking of having another child.”
“That must account for your tireless ardor,” she teased.
“No doubt,” he agreed with a grin. “The odd thing is, I should have been thinking of my hotels. Do you realize how long it’s been since I’ve even mentioned them?”
“Yes.” She kissed the upward curve of his mouth. “I do.”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” he said, baffled. “I’ve never been idle this long, and yet I’m in no hurry to go back to work. Do you remember when the telegraph lines were down and I had no word from my managers for days? I didn’t care, Susanna! I wasn’t worried in the least. Do you suppose this is the onset of senility?”
